


Password

by heyjayyay



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Camren - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Multi, Sex, Smut, caminah, explicit - Freeform, mature - Freeform, password, xxx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5896273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjayyay/pseuds/heyjayyay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camren: Roaring Twenties AU </p><p>In which Austin is an ass and Lauren is a vixen and Camila is hopeless...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Stay in touch!  
> Amazon Author: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07BB6DFXN  
> Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17449889.Jessica_Yeh  
> Facebook: facebook.com/JessicaYehWrites/  
> 

**Password**

His hands were clammy as they clumsily undid the buttons on her blouse, cupping her breast greedily.

“Sorry, Austin.” She pushed him away. “Bank’s closed.” Her head was spinning from the lack of oxygen, being packed into the ballroom like a bunch of sardines. The lights of the grandiose chandeliers danced off the crystal décor causing her to see tiny white dots floating on the inside of her eyelids every time she blinked.

When they had arrived back at their own residence, her husband had wasted no time, scooping her up gallantly and carrying her up the stairs and into the bedroom, setting her down at the foot of the bed, her feet connecting with the plush white carpet.

“Come on, baby.” Her husband begged, stepping closer causing her small frame to fall onto bed when she tried to back away.

“Not tonight.” She held firm, unsuccessfully trying to wiggle out from under the man’s weight.

“Please, Camila.” He whispered in her ear, nibbling on the sensitive skin below it, right where her neck connected with her jaw. Normally, the action would have her in pieces, giving in immediately. But lately, nothing her husband did could elicit any sort of sexual response. She felt empty.

“I’ll be quick.” He continued. “I promise. It’ll be so short you won’t even know.”

“That’s not the only short thing around here.” She muttered to herself but allowed him to continue undressing her, before undoing the buckle of his belt.

\---

“What’s eating you?” Dinah asked as she stepped into the sun lit foyer of the Mahone residence, her heels clicking on the tile floor as she walked to the coat rack.  Sliding off her gloves and tucking them into the pocket of her pea coat she hung the garment up on one of the mahogany limbs.  

“I don’t know.” Camila shrugged, leading the two further inside when the taller woman had finished. The house was pristine, too shiny, too white, too big, too sunny, too bright, just too much. It made the pupils in her warm chocolate eyes shrink at the strain. “I just don’t feel happy anymore.” She fell back dramatically into the luxuriously uncomfortable velvet couch. Despite it costing an arm and a leg, it was nowhere near soft. 

“I’ve noticed. What’s gotten into you?” her friend asked, settling in a much more lady-like fashion in the armchair next to her, crossing her legs at her ankles. “You have it all.”

She was right. The Mahones were a well-established family, bringing in more money a month than Camila even knew what to do with. She should be thankful. Austin had showered her with gifts of all sorts, anything she wanted. Even things she didn’t want, he got her anyway. Any sensible woman would fall at her feet just be remotely as well off as she was. She had really been lucky to have such a rich heir fall in love with her.                                     

“I don’t want it all.” She sighed, one finger gliding along the rim of the beaded lamp to her side.

“Pish posh.” The taller woman waved a hand dismissingly. “Don’t be such a wet blanket.”

“No really, Dinah.” She responded flatly. “I don’t know what’s happened between us but nothing feels right anymore. I’m actually quite tired of the parties and sitting around like some object to be paraded around. All we ever do is hop from party to party. Eat, sleep, sex.”

“I don’t see what’s so wrong with that.” The younger woman chuckled, fiddling with the diamond ring on her left hand.

“That’s because Siope is good to you.” She sighed.

“And Austin in more than good to you.” The taller woman countered.

Camila sat up, snapping her fingers. A plump woman in a white apron entered almost immediately, carrying a silver tray with a delicate tea set upon it. She tottered over to the coffee table, placing the tray carefully on the surface before pouring two cups of the piping hot liquid into the fine china, handing them over to the ladies.

“Thank you, Margaret.” Camila said, raising a pinky habitually as she lifted the teacup to her pursed lips, blowing lightly.

“Anything else I can get you, miss?” The woman asked.

She shook her head. “That’ll be all.” She dismissed, swirling the liquid before taking a dainty sip, the sensation of heat warming her cold insides.

The woman nodded, leaving with a curtsy.

“You need to loosen up.” The younger woman said, turning her attention back to the smaller brunette once they were alone again. The ticking of the grandfather clock on the other side of the room continued. “Tell you what” she leaned in further, motioning with her hand for the older woman to do the same. “I heard it through the grapevine that there’s a nice little place on the outskirts of town.” She raised an eyebrow knowingly before sitting back, patting her curls with her free hand and returning her attention to her tea.

Camila’s eyes widened in realization as she let out a hearty laugh. “You slay me!” She said, putting her own cup on the saucer, returning it to the table. “You really think I’d be caught dead in the slums of town?”

“Fine.” Dinah shrugged, taking another sip of her tea. “But rumor has it they have giggle water…” the taller woman whispered, covering her mouth with the side of her hand.

“A speakeasy?” Her eyes widened.

“A gin mill.” The taller woman nodded in confirmation.

\---

The address that Dinah had passed on was just as shady as Camila had expected. Dimly lit streetlamps lined the cobblestone street. Tucking her purse tightly under her arm, she adjusted her hat, keeping to the shadows in fear of someone recognizing her. The last thing she needed was to have word that Austin Mahone, upper-class debonair’s wife was out running the streets in search of alcohol. Slouching slightly, she continued on. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

After descending the rickety stairs, she was met with a large wooden door with a small sliding window. Hesitantly, she knocked twice. After no response she looked around her. It was the dead of night. Maybe she should leave. Just as she was about to flee, the sound of wood struggling to be moved rung out into the darkness.

Camila turned to see the most hypnotizing pair of green-eyes peeking out from the hole in the door. The streetlamps in the distance caused light to bounce of them as they sparkled behind beautiful, long lashes.

“Password?” a voice husked.

“Umm, open sesame?” She stuttered dumbly.  

“Nice try, doll.” The voice chuckled. “But that would have been too easy.”

And then she was left in silence, the window sliding shut with a soft _shhmp_.

\---

It only took four days before Camila tried again. When she had returned back to her giant prison of a house, Austin had barely even noticed the change in her demeanor. As time went on, she felt less obligated to keep up her appearance for him unless there was company around; his business partners mostly. Even then, still applied less powder and even went as far as to not put in her signature pearl earrings that he had bought her on one of his trips out to Europe.

Feeling suffocated, she called Dinah, spinning the numbers of the telephone that was mounted to the wall.

“Hello?” the familiar feminine voice answered.

“Dinah? It’s Camila.” She whispered, wary of any lurking housemaids that may have been around.

“Camila!” The woman on the other end said cheerfully. “How are you, darling?”

“I did what you said.” She said cryptically, her voice still hushed.

“Oh, and how was it.” Her friend mused. Camila could practically see her perfectly shaped eyebrows raised in interest. “Tell me everything.”

“Applesauce.” She cursed, despite how unladylike it was. “You can’t get in without a password.” She muttered.

“Well of course,” the woman on the other line laughed. “But your husband is a darb.” She reasoned. “Just take some of your daddy, Austin’s, jack and pay your way in.” she suggested. “Listen,  doll, I’ve got to go. Siope’s waiting. We’re going out for a night on the town. Let me know how it goes.”

And then the line clicked dead.

\---

This time, she tried a new approach. Marching down the steps of the shady establishment, she pounded confidently on the door. The window slid open and she was met with the same green-eyes, sparkling in amusement.

“Welcome back, doll face.” The voice teased with a wink. Camila was sure that her cheeks were burning slightly but refused to let it weaken her stance, despite her heart now pounding.

“Let me talk to the Big Cheese around here.” She demanded, stepping forward, bringing her voice to her lower register. “I have the dough and plenty to spare. Just let me in and it’s as good as yours. I can even split a very generous cut for you.” She rasped out hoping the somehow seduce the enticing green-eyed woman that had previously denied her entry.

“That, bird,” The voice mused, “would also be me. You got a nice little kisser on you, don’t cha?” the green-eyes fluttered mockingly. “But I’m not going to let you buy your way into this joint. Now, get a wiggle on.” The husky voice shooed.

\---

She was getting desperate. The third time she stood outside the door, shamelessly rattling off random words, hoping that one of them would be the password; the answer to all her problems.

“Pickle.”  She groaned as the eyes behind the door burst into yet another fit of laughter. She had been standing there for more than half an hour in the same manner, spewing out words only to receive another rejection coupled with the green-eyed woman’s laugh. The sound itself was magical and though it meant that she was nowhere closer to her goal, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Something about the sound of that laugh had rendered her legs useless.

“LJ, either let them in or don’t.” came a third voice from behind the door. “Stop blocking the entrance.” The grumpy voice scolded. Camila imagined it belonged to a tall, hard boiled man who wore too much cologne and smoked cigars in his easy chair.

“So, your name is LJ?” Camila quirked an eyebrow.

“You need to leave.” The woman dismissed, quickly sliding the window shut.

Camila stood dumbfounded. Was that panic she had sensed in the green-eyed vixen’s voice?

\---

Camila wasn’t some Dumb Dora that was going to sit around and do nothing. No, she needed to get into that joint and she need to get in immediately. With a determined stride, she slipped out of her husband’s grasp for the nth time, careful not to wake the sleeping man as he continued snoring, completely unaware that he was now spooning a pillow instead of his wife.

Making her way down the familiar cobblestone street, she rapped violently on the door.

“Hey, bird.” The husky voice purred again, the calm, sultry tone returning after yesterday’s events. “Back for more?” she winked.

“I’ve tipped off a dick to come and scout this place out.” She threatened, wringing her gloves nervously. She was thankful that the green-eyed woman couldn’t past the window to call her out on it.

“If you don’t want this place busted, you’ll let me in.” She continued.

“I call bull.” The green-eyes narrowed, lashes curtaining them dangerously.

Camila swallowed but didn’t back down. “What makes you so sure of that?”

“You have no edge.” The voice egged, one bold eyebrow raised challengingly.

“I have plenty of edge!” She insisted, stomping a foot childishly. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh really? Because from what I gather, you’re the type of dame that gets herself dolled up every evening and sits like a little lap dog by her husband and his flat tire business partners while they smoke their ciggies and talk about all types of topics that are of absolutely no interest to you. You’re an egg that always gets what she wants and is never satisfied.”

“Well, I never!” she gasped in offense. “Listen here, LJ, you don’t know from nothing about me. So I suggest that you dry up before you start jumping to conclusions.” She spat, turning on her heels and stomping off. As she did, she could have sworn she heard a husky chuckle from behind the little window. Yes, she was certain of it. It was expected after all. What she didn’t expect was to hear the sound of the lock clicking, the metal scraping against itself in a strained cry.

The woman that had opened the door was dressed scantily in a black and red flapper dress, a matching black collar choker around her neck. Her long brown hair was curled, a red feather headband rested across her forehead. Camila let her eyes drop down to LJ’s long, creamy legs that held her figure confidently as she tapped her heel.

“You gonna stand there and admire my gams all night or are you gonna come inside?” The woman mused, opening the door a bit wider. Camila nodded dumbly as she entered, taking in her surroundings for the first time.

Despite the shady location, the establishment itself was actually quite nice. Round tables lined the walls allowing for a large dance floor in the center of the room. The bar was towards the back with a small stage to the side that was presumably for live entertainment. The place was absolutely hopping with women dressed in the same sort of attire as the woman that stood before her. Speaking of which, LJ was now holding a cigarette casually to her enticing red lips.

The woman caught Camila staring as she tilted her head to the side, sultrily blowing out a puff of smoke easily before inhaling another drag. “Bar’s that way” she breathed, aiming the second line of smoke in Camila’s direction, blowing slowly, letting it circle around the shorter woman, intoxicating her.

“By the way, your feisty side is mighty keen.” She leaned in, her lips ghosting the shell of Camila’s ear before walking off. Camila watched, still in shock as the woman’s hips swayed from side to side until she was out of sight, lost in the sea of people on the dance floor.

\---

Five drinks of God only knows what, Camila was teetering from side to side as her eyes struggled to focus on her surroundings. The liquor was really hitting her hard, not that she minded. She wanted this, need this, lusted after it for weeks.

Stumbling recklessly , she managed to find a small back room with an all too enticing bed. Kicking off her shoes, throwing her coat on the floor, she collapsed into the stranger’s bed, not caring whose it was or what class the owner may have been in.

“Well, well, well.” A voice in the doorway tsked. “Look what we have here.” Seductive green-eyes sparkled. Camila looked over, droopy eyed with a goofy grin.

“Hey, LJ.” She giggled, wiggling a finger at the woman by the door. “Come lay with me. This bed is just the bee’s knees!” She said, wiggling her hips into the comfortable cushion.

“I know.” The woman husked. “It’s mine.” She said, locking the door before approaching the intoxicated debutante.

“So tell me, bird, how did you get in here?” The green-eyed beauty asked, lying on her side next to the brunette, her head propped in her hand.

“I’m not a bird.” The aristocrat laughed. “I’m a human. And I have a name.”

“Which is…?” The flapper urged, highly amused.

“Camila.” She slurred.

“Camila.” The green-eyed woman repeated, gently tracing circles on the drunken woman’s exposed arm with her free hand.

“What’s yours?” She hiccupped.

“LJ.” She responded automatically.

“I don’t believe you.” Camila accused. The minx smirked, moving to graze her fingers up to Camila’s neck, then down her jaw, stopping at her chin just under her pink lips.

The brown-eyed woman blinked, staring blatantly back at the woman’s red ones, biting her lip subconsciously.

“Lauren.” Green eyes husked. “My real name is Lauren.” She said before crashing her into the dame’s, teeth clinking slightly. Camila groaned, her eyes fluttering shut as her tongue collided with Lauren’s, moving sensually. Her hands grasped desperately at any little bit of skin they could find, caressing, cherishing, clawing. All of the pent of frustration and lack of libido from months of being smothered by her husband finally released itself.

“Lauren” she gasped as the flapper moved to suck the skin on her neck, teeth scraping lightly before biting harshly causing Camila’s hips to buck. Never in the three and a half years of her marriage had she ever felt such a high. This woman was a complete stranger, but Camila wanted more. She was intoxicated. And not just because of the alcohol.

Lauren’s hands began to roam lower, cupping her breasts roughly eliciting another breathy moan from Camila’s lips which she captured just as roughly.

“Wait, wait, wait.” She panted, pushing the vixen by the shoulders. Lauren rolled back.

“What?”

“What’s the password?” Camila slurred, causing the green-eyed woman to laugh.

“Something tells me you won’t be needing it.” She smirked before resuming their previous position.


	2. Password – Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But that’s swell,” She chirped “because I’m sweet on you too.” She admitted.
> 
> “No, bird,” the taller brunette shook her head, her eyes downcast. “It’s not.”
> 
> “Why?” she panicked.
> 
> “They’re cutting me loose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: @heyjayyay  
> Tumblr: heyjayyay.tumblr.com  
> Instagram: @heyjayyay

**Password – Part 2**

When the snoring of the stranger next to her confirmed that the man was indeed asleep, the brunette untangled herself from her husband’s grasp, relieved at the freedom of no longer having his sweaty palms on her stomach. Carefully opening the wardrobe, she slipped out of her nightgown, putting on a blouse and skirt that could easily be undone quickly. She smiled to herself in anticipation before slipping quietly out the front door, careful not to wake any of the house attendants in the process.

She made her nightly route to the small speakeasy, down the alleyways and across the cobblestone streets that had slowly grown familiar to her over time. After her threat to tip off an investigator to expose the juice joint’s location, LJ, or Lauren as she liked to be called during their secret rendezvous, let her in without needing a password.

“Attagirl!” The vixen encouraged as Camila nursed her third drink of the night. The green-eyed woman smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind the debutant’s ear before leaning in.

“Come here, baby.” She purred, tugging her wrist lightly as she led them to the back room.

The second she heard the lock click shut, her back was against the door, her body pinned roughly to the hard surface as red hot lips attached themselves greedily to her neck, sucking hard, but not enough to leave a visible mark somewhere so publically exposed. No, she would leave those somewhere else later in the night.

 “LJ…” She panted as nimble fingers skillfully undid the buttons of her blouse, tossing it aside carelessly. The pair of emerald eyes devoured every inch of skin, pulling her skirt up to her waist, slipping her red nails to graze her inner thigh. She whined, the sound getting cut off by equally red lips, chuckling at the fact that she was struggling to contain herself.

They broke apart and the sheba kneeled down, pulling at the waistband of Camila’s panties in a teasingly slow manner.

“Please.” She begged. The taller woman nudged the side of her thigh with her nose, the scent of her arousal clearly noticeable even with all the smoke and alcohol in the air. She placed the woman’s tan leg over her shoulder and kissed a trail up the tanned skin, biting occasionally causing Camila to buck her hips in need.

“Pushover.” The minx chuckled, clearly amused by Camila’s desperate wanting.

Camila loved the way Lauren touched her, the way her hands would ghost teasingly over her skin, the way her nails would float over her, the smell of her; like cigarettes and rain. The flapper was an absolute tease when it came to their sexual escapades. It made Camila’s head spin in the greatest way possible.

“Patience, bird.” The woman underneath her husked, running one finger along the soaking folds of her center. Camila let out a whimper, throwing her head back in ecstasy. Without warning, the vixen plunged not one, not two, but three fingers into the aristocrat, causing her to yelp, walls clenching tightly around the digits. The seductress smirked, her tongue darting out to taste her work. She moaned at the sweet liquid as it dripped onto her tongue.

“Come on, doll.” The green-eyed woman hummed as she began pumping her fingers in and out of a writhing Camila who was struggling to keep herself upright, her hips bucking sporadically as the flapper increased her pace. The brunette looked down, her eyes meeting the green ones that glistened mischievously.

“Oh…” she panted. “LJ, yes. More.” Her hands tangled in the woman’s hair, probably gripping too tightly, but she couldn’t control herself at this point.

“LJ” she gasped. “LJ. Please.” Her stomach muscles clenching. “Lauren I need…” She needed to bring her closer in any way possible. Lauren always seemed to have this power over her, making her lose all ability to speak and control her body.

Her eyes widened as she felt Lauren run her teeth over her most sensitive area, causing her body to go completely ridged as her eyes rolled back.

“Lauren! Oh, Lauren!” She cried out as she rode out her orgasm. Her mouth fell open as a strangled breath escaped her parted lips.

When she finally recovered, her brown eyes opened to meet a pair of green, noticing that the woman was now holding her up because her knees must have given out when she hit her high. The flapper smiled proudly, bringing her glistening fingers to her mouth, sucking them hungrily, her eyes never breaking contact with the smaller woman’s.

Camila felt another rush of heat between her legs despite how spent she was. Grabbing Lauren’s wrist, she pulled the woman’s fingers out of her mouth, latching her lips in their place. The taller woman groaned, running her tongue over Camila’s upper lip. She willingly granted her access, parting her lips so that the muscles in their mouths could begin dueling.

Pushing lightly, she blindly moved them to the bed, the flapper quickly discarding every article of clothing, confidently laying her naked body on the soft surface.

Camila inhaled sharply, removing the rest of her own clothes as well before climbing atop the green-eyed woman’s body. She leaned forward, connecting their lips roughly as her hips began automatically grinding against the flapper’s thigh.

The woman let out an animalistic grunt, flipping them over, connecting their centers, desperately pleasuring herself against the smaller woman’s heat. Her mouth traveled to Camila’s breasts, sucking the tops, leaving a badge of honor as blood traveled to the surface in dark red and purple blotches. When she was satisfied with the markings, her lips enclosed around hardened nipples, sucking greedily while palming the other, tweaking and rolling the stiff bud between her thumb and index finger.

Camila’s back arched and her legs wrapped around Lauren’s waist, pressing her core impossibly closer. The woman on top of her was glowing, cheeks flushed, a thin layer of sweat causing her milky skin to glimmer, fittingly matching the sparkle of her eyes.

The brunette watched, hypnotized as Lauren moved sensually above her. She looked so touchable. As if she were able to read her mind, the flapper leaned down, whispering in her ear.

“Go ahead, pet.” She husked in amusement. Despite the number of times they had done this before, Camila was still hesitant about touching the woman’s bare body, treating the flapper like a temple, something sacred.

Tan hands lifted to cup both of the woman’s breasts, squeezing them, eliciting a moan from the green-eyed woman. She then trailed her hands down the flapper’s smooth stomach, tentatively settling between their bodies. The brunette bit her lip as the upper-class woman slowly dipped one finger between her wet folds, slowly curling upwards. Her walls contracted, pulsing at the sensation. Encouraged by the reaction, Camila inserted another finger. It didn’t take long for the green-eyed girl to reach her peak, collapsing on top of her with a final groan.

“You’re getting better at this.” She husked with a wink, placing a quick kiss on Camila’s temple.

The two women lay with limbs entangled, side by side with their foreheads pressed together as they spoke in hushed, intimate whispers about their dreams and their childhood just before the sun began to creep into Lauren’s room. Camila would then place a final kiss on the flapper’s lips, redressing, and making her way down the cobblestone street to the Mahone residence.

\---

She shifted out of his sweaty grasp, rolling on her side as a tear traveled across the bridge of her nose, plopping lightly on the pillow. She could still feel his calloused hands gripping her waist too harshly, the rough of his beard scratching against her skin as he sloppily attached his lips to hers, clinking their teeth clumsily. The memory caused another wave of tears to fall.

_Austin slammed his fist on the table. They had just returned home from yet another banquet with some of Austin’s fellow business partners. The evening was less than spectacular and Camila just couldn’t wait to get to bed, or more so, for Austin to get to bed._

_Unfortunately, the business meeting didn’t quite go as planned, one of the company’s biggest trading partners backing out last minute on a major shipment, straining a major area of Austin’s financials. It wasn’t a lot overall, but it was still a rather large sum of dough to be thrown away._

_Camila watched as he unbuttoned his suit, loosening the tie around his neck, tossing both on the lounge chair with a groan. He rubbed his face displeasingly before turning his attention to his wife._

_“You’ve become an owl.” He muttered._

_“Pardon?” Camila asked, halting in the removal of her silk gloves._

_“Do you really think I haven’t noticed?” He shot with more aggression. “Look at this place!” he gestured around them. Camila watched as the vein in his neck bulged, jaw clenched tight._

_“It’s a mess!” he continued. “What do you do all day when you’re home?” Her husband berated, taking an aggressive stride, cornering her at the foot of the bed._

_“I…” she sputtered. “Margaret…” she tried to defend, knowing quite well that this was more than just about a few unkempt things around the house. The mess he was referring to was their marriage, something their maid couldn’t just tidy up with a feather duster._

_“Margaret? You want to blame Margaret?” he boomed. “Do you take me for a sap? I give you everything; jewelry that you never wear, clothes that you toss in the back of the wardrobe, and food that you barely even pick at.” He listed in frustration._

_“You’re an ungrateful gold digger!” He accused, shoving her harshly, causing her fall over the bed. “The least you could do is let me neck you.” He huffed, mounting her struggling body. She let out a distressed whimper, trying to push him off of her but he grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her._

_“Dry up!” he commanded in the most terrifying tone she had ever heard. Camila bit her lip, swallowing hard._

\---

Knocking on the large wooden door, she waited for a familiar pair of green-eyes and husky voice to shoot her a sly comment before unlocking the door.  After the previous night she just wanted to see Lauren, needed to see Lauren. Tonight, though she was met with the blue eyes of a stranger and the gruff voice of a man.

“Password.” He grunted.

“Umm…” She hesitated, wringing her hands nervously in her gloves. “I’m here to see LJ.” She said timidly.

“Not without a password.” The voice barked.

“Please,” she begged. “Can you please get Lauren? Tell her it’s Camila.” She requested.

“You’re an earful, bimbo.” She heard her favorite voice behind the door say. “She’s with me.”

The lock quickly clicked open and the large man stepped aside. She followed the seductress as she weaved through the crowd on the dance floor, stopping directly in front of the bar.

“Hair of the dog?” Lauren offered.

“Please.” She nodded. The flapper raised a hand, snapping at the bartender who immediately poured to shots for the women, setting them on the table. Before Camila could even reach out for hers, the green-eyed woman had already knocked hers back, snapping again for another which she aggressively downed seconds later.

Finishing her own shot, feeling the burning of the liquid down her throat, she turned her attention back to the green-eyed Sheba. Something was off.

“Level with me.” Camila prodded carefully, afraid to upset her lover’s already fragile state. “What’s on your mind?”

The taller woman sighed, finally lifting her gaze, the mysterious sparkle in her eyes was gone. She looked battered, defeated. “I can’t see you anymore, doll.”

“What do you mean?” Camila’s heart was pounding. This couldn’t be happening.

“I’m stuck on you.” The flapper confessed, her cheeks tinting a flushed shade of pink. Camila’s eyes widened.

“But that’s swell,” She chirped “because I’m sweet on you too.”  She admitted.

“No, bird,” the taller brunette shook her head, her eyes downcast. “It’s not.”

“Why?” she panicked.

“They’re cutting me loose.” The flapper sighed, rolling the bottom of the shot glass against the counter, staring at it as if it were the most mesmerizing thing she had ever seen.

“Because of me?” Camila choked out.

The taller woman nodded solemnly. “They warned me about getting goofy over you about a month ago but I told them to pipe down and ignored it.”  She chuckled at her behavior. “Probably not the best move, but they told me it was either me or you.” The flapper explained. “I wanted to make sure you were safe and could still come back here if you wanted. Once I’m gone everything will be fine.” She assured. “Tonight’s my last night then I’m out of here, gotta pack up and leave.” 

“But where will you go?” Camila asked. The flapper just shrugged, waving her hand at the attendant behind the counter who brought her a cigarette, lighting it as she placed it precariously in her mouth.

She took a long drag before turning to blow the puff of smoke to the side, away from the aristocrat. “Don’t worry about me, doll.” She smiled weakly. “I’ll be alright.”

“But Lauren…” She opened her mouth to protest but was silenced by a slender finger over her lips.

“Hush, bird.” The flapper cooed, taking Camila’s hand in her own, kissing the knuckles tenderly. “Let’s just do this one more time.” She said, rubbing out the cigarette in the ash trash that the bartender had set aside for her.

Camila nodded sadly, following her to the bedroom. That night, under a solemn atmosphere, the two women made love for the first and final time.                                

\---

If Austin didn’t think that Camila was useless before, he definitely had to of thought so now. It had been two months since Lauren had placed a final chaste kiss on her lips, red lipstick tinting her pink ones, claiming her as her own just for those few hours. Since then, she had become completely immobile. She barely ate. All she could do was sleep when Austin came home, trying her best to avoid all interaction with her husband. During the day, she would lie on her back and stare aimlessly at the ceiling, occasionally letting a few tears slip. On the weekends, she would join Dinah for tea and idle chatter, beating their gums. She had attempted making a slight effort to powder her face and line her eyes with eye shadow and mascara for their meetings but sadly, nothing could truly mask the bags under her eyes or the broken expression that she seemed to permanently wear.

The younger debutant had asked her what was bothering her during the first week but Camila immediately put her defenses up, spitting out hurtful words, only to apologize a few days later after her best friend had stormed out, dramatically throwing her scarf over her shoulder with a huff, slamming the front door with such force that the chandelier in the foyer wavered.

“Get up, Camila.” Her husband sighed, throwing open the bedroom curtains. “It’s half past noon.”

She rubbed her eyes lazily, turning on her side, hoping that he would give up and walk away as he had many times before. Unfortunately today was not the case. The covers were ripped from her and thrown on the ground. “I said get up!” He commanded. “We’re interviewing today.”

Interviewing?

“Excuse me?” She asked.

“Well if you’re not going to do anything anymore, we’re going to need another set of hands around here since yours are obviously worthless now.” Her husband spat, running a hand through his hair. “Get ready.” He ordered, leaving the bedroom.

After struggling with the motivation to get dressed and put on a presentable face, she descended the stairs, meeting her husband in the living room just as the doorbell rang and Margaret escorted the first candidate to meet them.

The interviews were long and tiresome. They had gone through three pots of tea and she soon excused herself to use the bathroom. Austin waved her away dismissingly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he crossed yet another name off the list from the paper in his lap.

“Worthless.” She heard him mutter, unsure if he was referring to the candidates or herself. When she returned her husband was smoking his pipe. He only did so when he was in a good mood. She raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve hired a new housemaid.” He said, “She starts tomorrow.”

“But I didn’t even meet her.” She protested.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “You didn’t seem to bother in the first place.” He argued. It was true. She sighed, nodding at his accusation, correct as it may be.

\---  
The next morning, she felt uncharacteristically sprightly. Maybe it was the fact that she had awoken to breakfast in bed and her favorite tune spinning on the phonographic record player in the corner of the room. Margaret must have been feeling extra helpful today.

A clatter of noise from the bathroom caught her attention.

“Are you alright, Margaret?” She called out noting that a mop and bucket were propped outside the door. She also caught the faint scent of Lysol.

“Margaret?” She asked again when she received no response. There was a shuffling of shoes as a figure appeared in the doorway.

A smile spread across her face at the playful green eyes.

“Lauren.” She breathed.

“Hello, doll.” The woman husked. “Did you miss me?”


End file.
